


Kilt Jumper

by BalefireFlatlands



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2019-09-19 21:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17009334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalefireFlatlands/pseuds/BalefireFlatlands
Summary: Demo and Soldier are the two loudest people around.





	Kilt Jumper

“I’ll strangle ye with mah bare hands you cheatin’ hell pup!”

The BLU Sniper rolled his eyes and took a sip from his coffee mug.

“MY AMERICAN NECK IS IMPERVIOUS TO YOUR DRESS WEARING THREATS”

Another sip and he put down his newspaper briefly to look at the ceiling above them. It was like this every time TF Industries made the teams ‘play nice’ for a few days of training. Somehow RED and BLU just couldn’t get along, even for an hour. Sniper didn’t care, one place was as good as another if they were paying him. Sure they were all in an unfamiliar training location and there were RED’s everywhere, but Miss Pauling had been adamant about them sticking to the cease fire, and the threats seemed pretty dire.

Of course two members of the teams seemed to be ignoring her pleas of nonviolence.

There was some muffled scuffling from above and the thunk of a table being flipped over along with more cursing.

Sniper went back to his newspaper.

“Uh…” Scout stood with his arms loaded with bottles of beer, staring at the ceiling. He had a drinking contest with his rival in a few minutes and he was determined to win. Sure he’d drank alcohol only once before and it had been Demo’s and he’d ended up in the hospital, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t show that dirty BLU a thing or two about drinking.

RED Spy eyed the bottles in his hand briefly before turning back the gun on the table he was cleaning. “I do hope you are not planning to drink that all at once.”

“Nah man, it’s a drinking contest. I’m gonna win!” Scout jutted out his chin, assured of his victory.

“Certainly. I’ll tell Medic to expect both of you later.”

Sniper laughed from behind his paper. Scout sputtered, but a few more thumps from above cut him off before he could formulate a reply. He glared at the ceiling instead, “What tha hell are they doing?”

“Playin’ cards.” Sniper responded calmly, setting his coffee mug down. Spy started to snicker before cutting himself off.

“Should we like.. go up there and make sure they don’t kill each other?”

“NO.” Spy and Sniper thundered at him, both turning to glare in his direction.

“Jesus! Fine okay, let them kill each other over cards.” More muffled noises from above and Scout glared at the ceiling, his teammate and the enemy Sniper before turning and leaving.

Spy burst into giggles. “You should have just told him.”

“He’s your teammate, not mine. You tell 'im.”

The thunks above stopped briefly, and then were replaced with a faint squeaking sound. Spy finally looked up at the ceiling, frowning. “What is that? Do they have a bed? Where did they get that?” The quarters at the training facility were less than livable, each mercenary being provided with a hard cot, all eighteen of them in a single room. Spy was certain that would go well come nightfall.

“Don’t care. I have a camper. Probably be the only one having a good night’s sleep.” He looked smug behind that coffee mug. “Shame for the rest of you though.”

Spy looked over at him, briefly surprised and then calculating. “A good night hmm?” He steepled his fingers and tried to control his leer. “Go on.”

Sniper smiled and chuckled low in his throat.


End file.
